PS 3545 
.U65 Q7 
1912 
Copy 1 



QUIET'PLACi^ 

Ju? Carlos Wupperm< 





Class ilxiM^ 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSITS 



QUIET PLACES 



POEMS 

BY 



CARLOS WUPPERMANN 



New York 

Shaemas O Sheel 

Publisher or Books in Good Taste 

124 West Nineteenth Street 

1912 



Copyright. f9lf 

by 

Shaemas O Sheet 
Publisher of Books in Good Taste 



The Franklin Press 

124 W. 19 th St. 

New York 



|,|.(rt) 



'CI.A3()5159 



A WOMAN. 



You'd say, looking upon that face of hers, 

With its great, silent eyes, wonderfully pure 

And peace compelling, the ne'er faltering lips 

And steadfast chin, the contour of the whole 

Perfect and chaste and clouded not at all, 

You'd say this woman's days have glided past 

Immaculately, floating the river of years. 

Wrapped in a haze of twilight dreams she lives 

Protected from the sun of bitter truths. 

Nor ever have those eyes beheld sad things 

Nor ugliness that mars God's universe. 

Nor ever have those lips trembled with anguish 

Of fallen souls, the waste of dissolute youth 

And crime's long bondage, but in ecstasy 

Of innocence she holds such beauty forth 

That soon were dimmed by the world's first intrusion, 

Reality's cold triumph, — let her live, 

I will not call her wise nor worship her, 

Since all her beauty is woven of false dreams 

And her soul's strength of impotent fancies bred. 

You'd say just so perhaps — yet would be wrong. 

For those great eyes that seem so chaste to you. 

And indeed are, have often clouded been 

With tears for all men's intricate agonies. 

Which well she knows; and her calm, virgin lips 

Have quivered the night through with memory 

Of sorrowing children, mothers desolate. 

Yea, fallen souls, the waste of dissolute youth 

And crime's long bondage, she hath guessed you all, 



And wept with pity of it, but her tears 

Are dry now and she mourns not any loncrer. 

For out of doubt's slow crucible her soul 

Rose in a mist of faith, new born, and clasping 

The deeper truth that lies upon her face 

Like moonlight on still waters ; now she pities 

Nor hates not any more, but only loves; 

And loving, knows all things most lovable, 

And evil but a passing shadow, and pain 

A shadow's shadow, and God all in all! 



Her eyes are windows opening Godwards, bright 

With Beauty, Truth, and Goodness, three strange Lamps 

Mercifully lighted, — God's the mercy, mine 

Joy and new life ; gazing I feel again 

Glad tremors of a soul awakening slowly 

From childhood griefs to rapturous kind youth 

Yearning for stars — oh, that first thrill was heaven! 

Longer, ah, longer! Turn not now away! 

Still let me feast ! — -beauty burns brightest now ! 

Greece at full orb, Athens at zenith floats ! 

Warm, palpitating marble, chastened stone, 

And Sophocles' high passion, all are there! 

Italy ! Andrea Sarto, robed in dreams 

And harmonies of twilight, Angelo's 

Noonday, titanic mastering — all is will — 

And Raphael's clear eyed mother with the child ! 

One glance more — Truth flames golden — Plato speaks 

In cadence of the soul — Shakespeare intones 

Man and his destiny — human's divine — 



And Shelley dreams earth heaven — loftier truth 

Than fact can compass, Goethe's giant gladness 

Makes mellow life's dear fruit — What! Will she turn 

Just here ! The third lamp raised — see Goodness glow 

And Buddha's eyes burn pitiful, Confucius 

Bequeath men justice, Jesus tender love 

And peace worth dying — later child Saint Francis 

Blessing his sister swallows — all are there ! 

All good — yet still the best, that nebulous wonder, 

Too inarticulate Mystery, Beyond, 

Unnamed and Highest — God's own soul and hers. 

Which now I, blessed, worship in her eyes! 



in. 

She is not falsely modest, blushes not 
Facing the splendor of a naked soul 
Just risen from bathing in the cleansing stream 
Of God's benign omnipotence, her spirit 
Need's not convention's prurient covering 
Of false, cold smiles and phrases meaningless. 
Since frankly nude remains forever chaste. 
She'll bare her soul quite simply to your gaze 
With unaffected innocence, a child 
That lifts for your approval dimpled hands 
With bright shells overrunning, opalescent 
Smooth gleanings from the aye parturient ocean. 
Is not less conscious of a secret shame. 
Scarcely she seems to know how ravishing 
Her ideals, and her dreams how far above 
The common understanding — are not all men 
Born of one Spirit, everlasting brothers? 



5 



Do they not serve the same desire of goodness 

And yearning for perfection unalloyed? 

Are they not each in God's high image wrought? 

Yea, and beneath the angel scarce one step 

Which the free soul may mount whene'er it will? 

And so with never fear of misconstruction 

Or cold, ironic laughter, weaker souls. 

As you and I, tremble before in silence. 

She speaks her aspirations generous. 

Her hope of heaven, kingdom of beauty on earth, 

And mystic dreams of man made one with God 

Loving all things created, then the simple 

And homely joys, blossoms upon that tree 

Of universal love, connubial bliss. 

And mother gladness, likest to God's smile; 

The little household pleasures, none so small 

But bears a gift of beauty for the soul 

That sees and understands — pleasures of friendship 

And happiness of giving, scarcely less 

Joy of receiving gifts from those we love. 

All these she holds and asks you to admire 

(Her perfect moulded shells she sometime gathered 

On life's mistrodden sands) if you demur, 

*' Oh, beautiful no doubt your shimmering toys. 

But where's the useful purpose in a shell? " 

She pities you a little — passes on 

Clasping her treasures closer to her breast. 



HIS MOTHER. 

They call him Christ today — but I — I love 
The old name best, Jesus — so humanlike ; 
And he was all a man — do I not know? 
Did I not bear him, suffer pangs for him? 
Did not these breasts that now so withered are 
Once still his baby hunger? Did not these arms 
So shrunken now and frail, once hold him safe 
Against all harm in ecstasy of love? 
Did not this voice, so faltering now and thin, 
Once waft him into dreamland, crooning o'er 
That soft Judean lullaby my mother 
Taught me so long ago (the tears start yet 
To think on't). Did I not with mother pride 
Watch grow the babe to boy, the boy to man, 
Behold him bravely wrestling with temptations 
Of passions, human, all too human, so 
Learning self mastery, the perfect strength. 
Reward of days and nights of burning anguish 
With sweat of bitter blood? — Oh, ye who saw 
The finished product, hailed the perfect man. 
How could ye guess the labor of the moulding ! 
Not in a day was built that boundless love 
For all created things under the sky. 
That sympathy divine for all who suffer 
Nor know the why — but day by day it grew 
With yearning for the Father's will, and I 
Rejoiced to watch it shooting forth glad tendrils 
Through soul and body, purging both of dross. 
Till just pure gold remained when on that day 
(How clearly I remember each detail) 
He told us his resolve, Joseph and me, 



Standing before us there in the clear sunlight 

So straight and strong and beautiful, his eyes 

Bright burning with desire to do his deed, 

The thing appointed — how his gentle voice 

Thrilled through me ! And as he spake of God's command 

Whispered him day and night, to journey forth 

Into the world, the cold and cruel world. 

Heartsick with wrong and sorrow, and announce 

The coming kingdom and the reign of peace, 

When sin and pain and death should be no more, 

I felt the arm of Joseph, my good man. 

Tremble in mine — He paused and silent stood 

Waiting our answer ; then I rose and placed 

My arm about his neck and drew him down 

And kissed him on the forehead, blessing him; 

And spake with happy tears : Go forth, my son. 

My Jesus, pure in heart, and do thy deed. 

And all my love go with thee to comfort thee 

In hours of lonely grief." Then in his arms. 

His firm, sweet arms, he took and held me close — 

*' Mother, I thank thee." Then to Joseph turned, 

Who slowly rose and took his hand and gazed 

Earnestly, thoughtfully, into his eyes. 

And spake: " My son, tho I shall miss thee much. 

For thou hast been a faithful comrade to me, 

An earnest workman, an obedient son. 

And I had hoped to keep thee by my side 

Till death should take me, and to leave thee here 

Thy mother's prop and refuge in old age. 

Yet would I not restrain thee from the task 

Thou yearnest towards — I am a simple man 

That find my meed of duty in daily toil 

Faithfully done, and love to wife and children, 

8 



Nor troubled much myself about the world 

And its black wrongs, which still 1 must believe 

One man is powerless to alleviate. 

One man alone against a numberless people, 

What can he do? They will but laugh at him. 

Natheless it seems thou art not of our kind, 

Content to live our individual lives 

In personal purity, trusting Jehovah 

In His good time to manifest His will 

Anent the public wrong — thy love burns fiercelier, 

Consuming all of self in one desire 

To flame as light on those who sit in darkness, 

To lift the burden from blind hearts that mourn. 

I will not hold thee, go and do thy deed. 

Only, remember, when in later years 

Thou growest o'er weary of man's indifference 

And mocking smiles and hate, since such were ever 

The daily food of prophets and all who strive 

To make the sad world happier, turn thee home 

To Nazareth, the door is ever open, 

And thou shalt find brave welcome, day or night." 

Then my son smiled so sadly one would say 

He had foreseen the path that he must tread 

Even to the very end on Calvary's hill. 

Howbeit he thanked his father — then was gone 

Into the house — and we were left alone. 

Oh, he was beautiful that day — and yet 

There was no halo on him, I am sure. 

But now they call him Christ — have compassed him 

With a great rush of glory, him so simple 

They clothe in robes of awful majesty. 

Crown with a golden aureole (yet he deemed 

Thorns better) — They have hidden him away. 



My boy, my boy, my little Jesus! I 

Can find him not beneath the blinding splendor! 

There's Saul of Tarsus, he they now call Paul, 

Writes letters, so I'm told, I have not read, 

I could not understand them if I did. 

Proving my Jesus was the Son of God, 

Archetype man — I cannot understand — 

Phrases, all phrases! Yet the thing's so simple — 

He came, he loved, he suffered, and he died. 

There's the whole story. Love wrote every word. 

Nor blotted one, nor blurred a single line. 

Love was the message and the messenger. 

Will that not do you? Must you bury him 

Under a mound of miracles, make dim 

The flame of perfect love with fantasies 

Grotesque, absurd, as that which yesterday 

One of his faithful followers, a maiden, 

Pure and most beautiful, questioned me of: 

Like wildfire runs the rumor through the land 
That thou a virgin didst conceive our Lord 
Through action of God's holy Spirit — speak, 
Is this true? " 

Then I smiled and drew her close 
Till I could feel her tremulous heart's wild beating. 

Why dost thou question me so anxiously 
As were some hidden import? " 

" Since they draw 
Conclusions from the tale touching unholiness 
Of marriage intercourse, and counsel all 
Unwed, to persevere in virgin state 
Most pleasing to our Lord." 

" And thou? " I asked. 

I know not what to think. I would not sin ; 



10 



And yet — I have a lover, a good man, 

And pure in heart, nor ever have I felt 

When in his presence, the surge of passion rise, 

But only noble thoughts, holy desires, 

My love hath waked in me, him I should wed 

Gladly, confidingly, were but this story 

Hushed in my heart." 

Then spake I tenderly : 
Marry thy lover ; the story is a lie ! " 
She with a joyful outcry kissed my hand. 
Then said I counselling: 

'* Why shouldst thou fear 
To follow whither love shall be thy guide? 
May one not keep a virgin soul in marriage? 
Aye, for I know. A maiden chaste I dwellt 
Within my father's house, till he was come, 
Joseph, my good man, pure in thought and deed, 
And we together grew, for mutual faith, 
Common ideals of life and love and God, 
Made one our souls ere yet we dreamed of marriage ; 
Then on a day we wandered side by side 
Through the broad fields all gold with coming harvest, 
He asked me would I be his wife, his helpmeet, 
To share through all the years his inmost thoughts 
And aspirations, hold him true to God, 
It seemed it could not have been otherwise, 
I laid my hand in his and said, ' I will.' 
So we were wed, and from our perfect love 
That never through the testing years was marred 
By selfish passion or unclean desire 
Was born the child, Jesus, a gift of love. 
This is the truth to which may God be witness. 
I will not wrong my husband's memory, 

11 



My Joseph's, my good man, by dumb assent 

To wild, fantastic rumors, — I submit 

The human way's the best, the mutual love 

Of man and woman joined in holy wedlock. 

And thou, my daughter, keep thee true to love, 

And all is well. Fear not, but give thyself. 

God is a God of love, and so ye hold 

Firm to your highest selves, thou and thy man, 

Doubt not but there shall come children of love 

Fresh from the hand of God to bless your marriage, 

Nor any taint of evil cling to you. 

1 am his mother; trust me; 'tis his will." 

Then fell she on her knees and hid her face 

In her two hands, and wept soft tears of joy, 

Petitioning: " Oh, mother, holy mother, 

Bless me and pray for me that I may live 

And love as thou hast shown me " — 

Then I blessed her, 
And lifted up her face to mine and saw 
The purest thing in all the world, I trow, 
A maiden's love-lit eyes — 

'*And may I bring him,'* 
She cried, dear mother, may I bring him to you 
That you may bless him also? " — and I said, 
** Bring him" — 

And so she ran with eager feet 
To tell her lover she might marry him. 
At\;er, she brought him to me, and I saw 
Her radiant pride in him, and I was glad : 
For he seemed worthy — 

And I thought of Jesus, 
My son, and how his heart had thrilled with joy 
To have seen these two glad children and their love, 

12 



For such were ever nearest to his heart, 

(l well remember on that fatal march 

To Calvary from Jerusalem, we met 

A marriage party who paused to watch us pass ; 

And swift his face that with the agony 

Of last night's torture and the biting thorns 

Disfigured was and pale and wan, grew brighter. 

He smiled on them, and his lips moved in prayer 

That these two might be happy in their love.) 

And they kneeled down and kissed my garment's hem. 

And freely did I bless them in his name. 

Then went they forth to life ; and I was glad 

Seeing they understood — so few there are 

That understand — natheless I'll not complain. 

All is as heaven decrees; I will be patient. 

The day will come, the day will come, I know, 

When they shall see him as he is — no God 

Nor demi-god, despising simple joys 

And common gladness of the fruitful earth. 

But just my human Jesus — all is well. 



13 



TANTALUS 

Ah! But one drop, one drop — nay, how it flees 

As swift as sunlight from my quivering hands. 

And all my throat is bitter with thick thirst, 

And I am faint with hunger eternally. 

Hearken, omnipotent and most cruel Father, 

Is it not enough? Have done now — let me drink ! 

Have I not yet atoned for my great love 

With which I loved mankind, or must I still 

Fearfully pay, because I could not watch 

With careless eyes the woe of human hearts, 

But gazing on the weariness of men 

That blindly toil through the dense summer heat 

Felt sudden pity touch my cheek with tears 

And tremble at my lips and fire my blood, 

Till it had driven me to the secret theft 

Of nectar and ambrosia roots, — oh, why, 

Of thy abundance must thou grudge the pittance 

I offered them? Surely if thou hadst known 

The sorrow of their souls, thou wouldst have given 

A thousand times my theft — be merciful ! 

Be merciful, be merciful, and hearken ! 

See how their eyes are heavy and their backs 

Crooked with toil and cowering at thine altars. 

Behold their hands that once were beautiful 

Outstretched in prayer; be merciful and hearken. 

Be merciful, be merciful, and hearken ! — 

Thou wilt not? 

Nay, for thine eyes are blinded by the lust 
Of power and pale women, thou art cruel, 
And all thy love is lust, and all thy soul 
With blind excess of pleasure cold and numb. 



14 



What canst thou give? For, lo, thy gifts are death 

To whom they come, death or dishonored life. 

No longer will I call on thee for succor, 

Not for myself nor for the race of men. 

I would not have them honor thee with pleadings. 

Better that fearful black winged pestilence 

Sweep them into the grave, or sudden shock 

Restore them to the ever waiting earth. 

And as for me, I do not bid thee cease 

Thy torturing, since still it pleases thee. 

I welcome anguish — 'tis my crown of hope. 

Hunger and thirst, kind friends, still cling to me! 

While I have you, I shall not cease to strive, 

Tho vainly, since a god hath willed it so, 

To clasp the treacherous water and the fruit. 

Oh, sweet it is to strive and still to strive ! 

Oh, happiness of discontent which thou 

That rulest all things with despotic will 

Forever satisfied canst never know ! 

Why should I envy thee in any way 

Thy triumph, or the splendor of Olympus? 

Or the dark flow of nectar or ambrosia 

Which whoso eats can never know death's kindness? 

Or the cold pallor of thy satiety 

When the white breasted dawn with virgin shame 

Discovers thee on some forbidden bed 

Languid and grey with ashes of burnt desire? 

Since thou art as a runner that outstrips 

His fellows in the contest for the wreath. 

And gains the goal, and staggers, and falls dead. 

Lo, thou hast gained the wreath of thy desire, 

Which was the crown of heaven and earth, now art thou 

Utterly dead; I cannot envy thee. 

15 



For tho my body is shaken with the weight 
Of fallen years, froward with power of pain, 
I yet may boast the craft to build a dream, 
I still can hope, and strive for better thin^js. 



16 



MARY MAGDALENE 

(Night upon Calvary. Below Jerusalem^ the slayer of 
the prophets, sleeping. Above, the sad moon and the stars. 
Peace after a great storm.) 

They are all gone, all gone. I am alone ! 

How strange to be alone! — We buried him, 

He is quite dead — How very pale he was 

In the torchlight — How pale and yet how fair! 

He was so fair! I kissed him on the cheek. 

But it was moist and cold — his mother saw me. 

It angered her — that does not trouble me. 

She had no right to him, she never loved him. 

When most he needed love to counsel him, 

And save him from himself and the blind madness 

That drove him onward, onward, to his doom, 

Where was she then.^ A noble mother she ! 

That needed death to teach her how to love ! 

If this wild grief she shows be not indeed 

A pretty play— what's this? Oh! Oh! Oh! Blood! 

Scarce dry yet ! This flowed when the spear went 

through — 
I say she never loved him; but I loved him. 
Oh, yes, I loved him — that was life to me. 
I loved you, Jesus, do you understand? 
No, no! You never could have guessed how much. 
And I — I lacked the strength to tell you then, 
And now I cannot — you will never know ! 
Yet once, not long ago, when I had washed 
Your feet with ointment, precious as pure gold, 
And shaking out my locks of hair — those locks 
That once had been my beauty and my pride, 

17 



Before they served the sport of sensual brutes — 

Began to dry your feet, I raised my face 

And saw you looking at me, in your eyes. 

The saddest eyes in all the world I think. 

Tears! Oh, 'twas not the first time I had seen 

You weep ; you had so sensitive a soul 

There is no happiness for such a soul 

In this sad world, — always it was the world 

You wept for, not tor me — save but this once. 

Had not the traitor Judas broken in 

With his shrill chatter, '* I decry this M^aste 

Of the disciples' means as sin," I think, — 

I think you loved me as you loved all those 

Whom you had saved, no more 1 am quite sure. 

You had so ^reat a heart! Too great for me, 

W^ho am at best a creature of man's lust 

Snatched from destruction by your gracious arm. 

You loved all men and would have saved them all 

As you saved me. I grant you that the dream 

Was beautiful — and yet 'twas but a dream — 

And life is not a dream — oh, don't you see? 

What were those men to you that you should strive 

So mightily to take upon yourself 

The awful burden that themselves should bear. 

They did not want you, for you spoke the truth, 

And they are liars all, and hypocrites. 

They did not want you, so they hung you here. 

You should have come with me, I loved you so! — 

What am I saying.^ — But you were my life. 

You loved so much, and, oh, you missed love's best! 

Is it not better to love one than all.'* 

How should I know.'' It's all so dark and strange — 

I'm but a woman — yet it seems so cruel. 



18 



They did not want you when you came, but I 
I want you, for I need you and your love — 
Yet now my arms embrace an empty cross ! 



19 



RODOLFO 

I am that fearful bandit, Rodolfo. 

For a hot score of years my name hath been 

A terror to the hillside, and the vale 

Hath whispered it with trembling lips, the whole duchy 

Hath shuddered at its purport, for no crime 

So horrible is known to human thought, 

So deeply dyed with blood, that it could slake 

Even one short hour my all consuming thirst. 

My lusty passion burns today as bravely 

As when I first took arms against a world 

Of kind, degenerate cowards, whining wretches, 

That prate of love because they dare not hate. 

And vowed that I would live my life and die 

Fighting, nor bow the knee to any God, 

That I would have no mercy nor receive none. 

But make the right of might my only law : 

So have I lived — so die tomorrow morning. 

For they have caught me at last, the good duke's men 

Caught me by treachery, not might — well, well, 

I do not murmur, I myself have used 

All manner of deceit to gain my ends. 

And treachery is a kind of might no doubt. 

They will not torture me — so the priest said. 

The priest whom the good duke — curst be his name — 

Sent to redeem my soul, as tho I were 

A common Christian cavilling of pardon 

Through Christ's dear blood — pardon, I ask no pardon. 

He came, a little, white faced, snivelling monk, 

With lily hands and soft, deceptive voice. 

With mincing steps follows he in the cell 

Blinking for light, the warden, a huge man, 

20 



Mi^^hty of limb, whom I respect, " Where is he? " 
Whispers sir priest in trembling tones. I rise. 
" Is it Rodolfo that thou seekest? " 

** Aye, him." 

* * I am th e man ; what wouldst thou .^ " 

"The good duke. 
Than whom no truer Christian lives, sent me 
That I should speak with thee, and offer thee 
In the face of fearful death the consolation 
Offered to every sinner by our Lord 
Through his true Church, of which I am an humble, 
Unworthy servant" 

"Wilt thou sit," I said, 
*' Upon this seat? 'Tis not too comfortable. 
But all the place affords,"— he did, the while 
Eyeing me half with curiosity 
And half with dread — I let him sate himself. 
After some moments spake he, 

*' Rodolfo, 
Wilt thou confess thy manifold, black crimes 
And trespasses?" 

"What crimes?" 

**Thy ruthless deeds 

Against the laws of God and man." 

"I will 
Say I have broken every law which man 
Has insolently made to bind his fellows 
In slavery to his weakness, I confess 
Gladly and proudly " — 

* * And is there in thy soul 
No murmur of repentance, no remorse 
For all the evil thou hast wrought, the years 
Of rapine and foul lust — tomorrow, think, 

21 



Thou goest to meet thy Judge, the living God, 
Face to face," — 

And if I should confess v 
Repentantly the past, what then? " 

Why then 
In the name of Him who died that we might Hve, 
Who bore our sins nailed to the pitiless cross, 
I offer thee forgiveness." 

So, forgiveness? 
Thou wilt forgive me — aye, and then, what then? 
Will that undo the past, make whole the lives 
Broken by me, turn from their pleasure's course 
My followers, to holy thought and life? 
Will it undo the ruin I have wrought. 
Which I repent not of ? " 

Nay, that is done, 
And may not now be altered, but thy soul 
May yet be saved, if thou confess and bow 
A penitent to God — " 

Nay, now, sir priest, 
Hearken to me, knowest thou the man I am? 
Hast thou not heard the horror of my name 
Whispered in trembling by all godly people 
Within the duchy's borders? Knowest thou not 
There is no crime known unto human thought 
I have not revelled in — " 

I know, I know," 
He said, and wiped the sweat drops from his brow. 
* Yet God omnipotent through Christ's dear blood 
Can wipe away the deepest stain of sin 
From every human soul. ' ' 

Nay, now, sir priest, 
Surely thou dost not know me — Hast thou heard 



22 



It was my custom if by chance a monk 
Or other man of God came to my hands, 
Having bound him to a tree, while he yet lived 
To rip the lean skin from his quailing flesh, 
Laughing the while — " 

*" I had heard as much," he whispered.— 
"And still thou wilt forgive? " Then his eyes gleamed, 
And sooth I almost liked him for that gleam, 
He seemed so near a man, " Not I, but God," 
He cried ; then the gleam fell, and with it went 
The man, and just the priest remained. 

** Sir priest, 
I do not understand the God thou preachest. 
In truth he seems to me a weakling God 
That prates of love because he dare not hate. 
Listen to me, sir priest, two months ago 
Come Tuesday next there fell into my hands 
A merchant and his daughter, she a maid 
Still in her earliest teens, a dainty morsel. 
Most fair of face and form — I looked on her 
And swift my passion found a thing to do. 
I bound the merchant safely to a tree 
And then before his eyes, his father eyes, 
I forced the maiden to my utmost will; 
While the man's terrible shrieks and cries for mercy 
And later, curses steaming with his frenzy, 
Made music in my ears — " At that he rose, 
Livid, and striding towards me, raised his arm 
To strike me, and I laughed into his face, 
*' Sir priest, wilt thou forgive? " — Then his arm fell 
Helpless, and all the blood reeled from his face. 
And fearfully made he moan, **Not I, but God: 
She was my sister, he my father " 'Sooth, 

23 



I know not what came on me, but at those words 

I somehow trembled, and he, trembling, too, 

Sank back upon the seat, and hid his face 

In his soft, lily hands — then, later, I 

Spake to him, almost comforting, "Sir priest. 

Why grievest thou? Shalt thou not have tomorrow 

Full meed of vengeance, yea, and torture me 

Even as I tortured them. — Thou shouldst not grieve. 

Rather shouldst thou rejoice that now thou mayest 

Sate thyself with sweet triumph of revenge." 

So spake I, but he answered not at all. 

Then once more I, Sir priest, hearken to me. 

There is a torture terrible, a means 

Of paining human flesh so exquisite 

That none ere me had dreamed of it, and I 

Reserved it ever for my noblest victims. 

I will reveal it to thee, on the morrow. 

When lesser means have left thee still unsated, 

Thou mayst inflict it on me — " Then he spake 

Raising his ashen face, whereto tears clung, 

God pity and forgive thee " — at those words 
My fury rose anew, ' Nay, get thee forth ! 
I had dreamed to find in thee a man, but now 
I see a very monk; I know thy kind, — 
Go, ere I stretch thee lifeless with a blow! " 
At that he rose, speechless, and slunk away. 

Howbeit I still must marvel at these Christians, 
That prate of love because they dare not hate, 
This breed of vermin that crawls over earth's face 
To tickle her and make her sons to laugh. 



24 



AMIEL 

Amiel, when in the lecture hall 

Geneva's students came to you 

Did never one among them all 

Just glimpse the great soul looking through 

The shadowy eyes, thoughtful and still, 
And turn from dreaming with a start 
To feel a sudden, prescient thrill 
Crimson the blood in brain and heart? 

And did they listen to your word 
Day after day, and never know? 
Was there not one, not one that heard 
Your spirit's message whispered low, 

Telling him all the doubts and fears 
And the deep faith that conquered doubt, 
The solace of your lonely years, 
God's truth and beauty twined about? 

And was your name like any name 
Of those who lived and taught and died? 
And did they never dream of fame 
For you, who never dreamed of pride? 

And did they ask you questions, too, 
Some trivial point they could not see? 
*' Professor Amiel, is it true? " 
And did you answer patiently? 



25 



And still they never guessed what lay 
Behind the calm voice all the while, 
The heart so strong to love and pray 
Just hidden from them by a smile ! 



I wonder, if my gaze could tear 
The mask of smiles my neighbors wear, 
Such treasures would revealed be 
Of faith and hope and charity ! 



26 



'* JUNIOR" 

Oh, little bundle of silken pink, 

Do you know what I think, do you know what I think, 

As I hold you close and kiss your face 

With its little red nose and its damask cheek? 

I think, yes, I think, if you could speak. 

You could tell strange tales of a far-off place — 

Of a golden place, with a golden light 

Where never the day must yield to night, 

Where the flowers bloom that shall never die. 

And the birds that color the cloudless sky 

Sing the songs that the angels sing 

When they worship the great, eternal King. 

For I think you came from that land afar 

With a swift descent like a shooting star 

That has left its home in the milky way. 

You have come to me, you have come to stay. 

So nestle close in my mother's arm, 

Safe from danger, safe from harm. 

Sleep, my little one, sleep, 

While the darkening hours creep. 

He who gave the river 

To the sea 
He the blessed Giver, 
Gave me thee. 

I will cherish , / will love thee 
To the last. 
Till the song is ended , 
Till dreams are past. 



«7 



He sleeps, and on my woman's breast 

He finds his rest, 

Content to know me near. 

What matters else? To him no worst nor best 

Save me or lack of me. 

No earth nor sky nor sea, 

Only my heart, life's all in all to him. 

Not always thus ; year swiftly follows year, 

Ghosts of the future, dim. 

With each, his mind's horizon broader grown. 

My all importance fades on the soul's western rim. 

The world will claim its own; 

Its joys, its sorrows interwoven, crown 

His weary head, and leave it grey. — 

Let be — for I will rejoice while I may ! 

He is mine, he is mine, he is mine today ; 

Mine tomorrow, and mine alway ! 

For him I would gladly bear the cross, 

I would wear the thorns, I would suffer the loss. — 

Dear Lord, is there aught below, above. 

To master the strength of a mother's love? 



28 



LAS SALLE'S DEATH 

Draw back the shade— I'll dare the stars once more! 
I'm dying, Sophie— thanks—ah, they can wound 
Keener than swords, those silent, far-off things. 
Pale as the death that waits beside my bed, 
Pale and most potent,— I'll not play the craven, 
Leave it drawn so — 

Never a merciful cloud 
To dim their searching eyes — a few I'd bear 
Complacently — I've faced thousands of men 
With not an eye-lash quiver, but these clusters 
Innumerable, each with reproachful stare 
As a wronged woman facing her seducer 
After long years of wandering through the mire 
And all that terrible, accusing silence. 
Sophie, your hand— I've lived not wholly evil, 
Not all in selfishness ; I have loved freedom 
And justice, fought their fight— why should I tremble 
Seeing the heavenly triumph? Tell me that, 
My wise, wise Sophie, can you? 

Well, I guess it: 
I have loved freedom and justice, fought their fight, 
And loved my fellow men, the fallen, the forsaken. 
Searching for means to lift them — all true— yet 
I have not faced the stars with questionings ! 
Now all those unsaid, necessary queries. 
Like panic-stricken birds within a cage. 
Flutter their bruising wings against the walls 
Of my poor heart — the thousand whys and whences, 
The sombre wherefores, whithers unappeased, 
Crowding toward light at last 

I said, "the world 



29 



Suffices, what's the universe to man? 

Give him the world to use, he'll build you heaven 

And scorn the realm of angels, satisfied, 

Knowing all men his brothers in this life. 

This life being ended, to lie quite still for aye." 

I said unto the poor and the forsaken. 

Look not unto the heavens for happiness ; 
Earth is the appointed kingdom ; join your strengths 
And wrest your birthright from the tyrant hands 
That shut you from the day of perfect freedom." 
I said, the stars are useless unto men ; 
Keep your eyes earthward, let the heavens be." 
I was wrong, Sophie, wrong — lo, how they teach me ! 
Bend nearer to me, let me whisper now 
The burning truth they brand upon my soul. 
What is the earth without the universe? 
Even as the one man severed from the race 
Helpless forever ; shut your eyes to heaven 
You lose earth, too, even as yourself you lose 
Missing humanity wherein you live 
And move and have your being — the stars fought 
For Israel, they must fight for us today. 
Scourging the wrongs of earth with heaven's light, 
More terrible than whips, effective, too. 
The silent scorn of all the unshaken planets. 
Eternal Justice makes men just at last. 
The splendor of the Unseen on our faces 
Alone can bring the triumph — " I am I ", 
I boasted once, long ages since it seems : 
A paltry boast — see how it brought me low 
The slave of passion who kills me for his sport. 
1 am not verily I, save that I'm more! 
That more's the universal, manifest 



30 



In me, or so would be if I'd but let it. 

Were I less coward 

Well, ril let it now! 

1 fling myself upon the unseen Breast, 

Blindly, confidingly,— even now it comes ! 

Peace, peace, at last ! Sophie, your hand once more . 

1 have atoned it seems— they smile upon me. 

Those radiant wonders, no more swords but blossoms 

Scented with love, they take me to themselves. 

I am made one with them— in ecstasy ! 

Is death so kind? 

We lose ourselves at last 

And gain for recompense the universe ! 

Kiss me. Tears on my cheek !-Nay, do not weep. 

My friend, my loyal Sophie; I am happy. ^ 

Greet the dear comrades for me; say to them 

Not long since I'd have said '' fight on "-but now^ 

I say not " fight " but " be "—the answer's there . 



31 



TO A SCEPTIC 

Brother, there is a holy place for thee 

Somewhere within this world, a shrine 

Made glad with flowers, where thou at last shalt be 

Wrapped round with the divine, 

And know the perfect ecstasy. 



32 



LOVE AND DEATH 



The kiss of love you gave me 
That night before you died 
Was only a moment's rapture 
And could not abide. 
For when in the early morning 
They told me you were dead 
My longing lips were comfortless- 
The kiss of love had fled. 



The dream of love you builded me 
That night before you died, 
It is a faithful comrade 
That walketh at my side. 

It is a beautiful angel 
That through the years to be 
In hours of bitter loneliness 
Shall smile and comfort me. 

III. 

The hope of heaven you whispered me 
That night before you died, 
A modest, veiled virgin 
Still walketh at my side. 

And when the laughing breezes, 
Enamored of her grace, 
Have lifted the veil for a moment, 
Meseems I glimpse your face. 

33 



THE BROOK 

I heard the careless prattle of the brook 
Beading from rock to rock, its innocent laughter 
Unchained no echo in my listening heart, 
But even as lifting hand to shield my sight 
From the stern August noon, a warm tear splashed 
And woke me into wonder — 

Prattling brook. 
Why must I weep hearing thee laugh so merrily? 
Why may I not rejoice with thee? — Alas, 
In yon dim valley which thou canst not see 
A turgid, muddy river do I know, 
That waits to clasp thee in its foul embrace. 
There shalt thou lose thy perfect, crystal gladness, 
And purity divine, and thou shalt be 
Opaque and dumb to all the skyey splendor 
Of sun, and starlight, and the moon's soft wisdom. 
And thou shalt grow even as the river's self, 
Sullenly sluggish, earthy, unaspiring, 
Not leaping toward the sky, but hugging close 
The weedy banks of comfort, all thy foam 
Of eagerness dissolved, thy bubbles shattered. 
Oh, prattling brook, must I not verily weep 
Hearing thee, all unconscious of thy doom, 
Laughing into the sunlight — 

Just so youth 
Laughs in the face of present joy, nor sees 
The sombre river of life, where sorrow and sin 
Make muddy all that enter, and the soul 
Grows weak with lust, and hugs the weedy banks 
Of selfishness and pride, nor longer yearns 
For the calm grandeur of the snow clad peaks 

34 



Where delicate hopes and pure ideals are born. 

Oh, prattling youth ! Oh, prattling brook ! Yet hark ! 

Meseems the laughter turns to eager words — 

The brook replies : — 

Not that the glittering sunlight 
Hath blinded me, and so I may not see 
The dark fate that shall hold me in the valley 
Whither I hasten, not therefore do I laugh 
And foam with happiness, but that I know 
Beyond the river lies the mystic sea. 
Still and eternal, the unbounded sea; 
Where no defilement lingers, but all things 
That enter there forever are made clean, 
A mirror of God's blue and steadfast sky. 
Thither I go at last, thither my heart 
Yearns, tho the cruel river lies between, 
I do not falter, nay, with eager spirit 
I clasp the fate appointed, and am glad. 
Knowing the joy that waits me at the end, 
When, lulled in mother ocean's pure embrace. 
Made one with all the waters of the world, 
I feel the kiss of sunlight, or the moon 
And stars upon me sighing, or I hear 
Glad music from the breezes of the dawn." 



35 



ARCADY 



Down by the gates of the eastern sea 
Lieth the land of Arcady. 

Blue are the skies, and the sea is blue, 
And blue is the haze of the twilight, too. 

Blue are the cliffs on the shore above. 

But grey are the eyes of the woman I love. 

Grey are her eyes under locks of gold, 

That are shaken as leaves in an autunin wold. 

And the sound of her voice is comforting 
As the lilt of the citherns when angels sing. 



Down by the gates of the eastern sea 
Through the blue-kissed twilight wandered we. 

And her grey eyes gleamed through the mystic blue, 
And the gold of her hair was wafted through. 

And her dear voice parted the quivering haze 
And offered her soul to my eager gaze. 

And I saw her soul through the blue twilight, 
Gentle and pure and perfect white. 



Others were there by the gates of the sea — 
Only we two were in Arcady. 



36 



THREE LOVE SONGS 



Looking down from Bethany, across the valley 
Where the sombre city slept, 
Cruel city, foul with human degradation, 
Jesus wept. 

Came a peasant woman down the dusty highway. 
In her arms a sleeping child. 

On her face the light of mother love triumphant — 
Jesus smiled. 

II. 

Father, forgive them, they know not what they do." 
Oh, the cruel thorns that clutch his brow! 
Oh, the bitter pain where the nails were driven through! 
'* Father, forgive them, Thou! " 

" Father, forgive them, they have not understood.'* 
Oh, the cheeks so sunken and so grey ! 
Oh, the quivering eyelids, the drops of burning blood! 
'* Father, forgive them, I pray." 

" Father, forgive them, lo, lust hath dimmed their eyes. " 
Oh, the princely heart that now must break! 
Oh, the last great sob that wrends him as he dies : 
*' Father, forgive, for love's sake." 

III. 

** Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me.'* " 
** Yea, Lord, I love thee." 

Feed my sheep. 
Search out the straying one wherever he be, 

37 



Rest not nor sleep, 

Till thou have brought him back safe to the fold, 

Stilled the heart hunger and sheltered from the cold. 

So by the searching soon thou shalt see 

Truth that shall make thee free." 

Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me? " 
"Yea, Lord, I love thee." 

Feed my sheep. 
Even as I loved them on Calvary, 
With love as deep, 

Even as I gave of my blood do thou give ; 
Give to these weaker ones that they, too, may live: 
So by the giving soon thou shalt see 
Heaven's portals open for thee." 

Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me? " 
Lord, Lord, thou knowest that I love thee!" 
Feed my sheep. 

This one commandment give I unto ye. 

This one to keep : 

Love in the daytime and love in the night. 

Love is the way and the truth and the light. 

This one commandment give I unto ye : 

Love and still love, and be free! " 



38 



GERALDINE 

Geraldine, I remember yet 

The wonderful glow of God's sunset, 

Loth to leave us, the day we met. 

Leaning over the steamer's rail, 

A charming figure, lithe and frail, 

You played with the ends of your chiffon veil. 

I looked at you in glad surprise, 

" Lost in joy of the flaming skies," 

I thought, just then you raised your eyes. 

No it wasn't the beauty of the scene 
That occupied your thoughts, I ween, 
The day I met you, Geraldine. 

That glance told all ; yet was I to blame 
If I didn't guess from that your name? 
You see I was rather young at the game. 

So I blindly followed your evident lead, 
By chance just so as the rules decreed — 
You judged the motive from the deed. 

And played again. I followed suit. 
And judged myself good fellow, astute, 
Tho really an ordinary brute. 

Trick by trick, reckless and fast. 
The game proceeded ; two days passed 
And still I wondered, till at last 

You played your trumps — then I saw the rest 
Threw down my cards — oh, well it's best 
To leave those next thoughts unexpressed. 

39 



For certainly if looks can curse 

Yours cursed ; no doubt my sin was worse — 

Here's my apolog^y in this verse. 

I know it's hard — the game you played 
Was hell — but you played fair — I'm afraid 
You won, and I really should have stayed. 

But I couldn't; for I saw arise 
The vision of two God-lit eyes 
Fastened on me in sad surprise. 

Ah, Geraldine, the tears must flow 

When I think that you can never know 

Why the thought of her face unmanned me so ! 

When I think that while this life shall be 
Such as you may never see 
The healing rays of her purity. 

Yet you were a child once — yes, and pure 

As other children are, I'm sure: 

With never a thought of the devil's lure. 

Geraldine when that thought first shot 
Into vour girl's brain, swift and hot, 
Did you yield at once to its need or not 

Till you'd fought long months, and even years. 
All those terrible, righteous fears. 
All the anguish of lonely tears? 

Hell has entrances untold : 

Was it love of a man, or just the cold 

Devil-may-take-me love of gold. f* 

40 



Or, rather, the devil quotes scripture, when 

He tempted you first, no doubt then 

Quoth he, I'll make you a fisher of men." 

You longed for command, you wanted power, 
He whispered, " I give them this very hour, 
And I ask in return but a worthless flower. 

*' By your body's beauty you shall win 

Man after man to your sweet sin. 

Will you play the game? Good ! Then — begin ! " 



Down on the shore of Galilee 

Christ called to the sons of Zebedee, 

But the daughter of Zebedee, where was she? 

Neither father nor brothers knew. 
Perhaps in Jerusalem, fishing, too : 
The devil's true angler, even as you. 

Fishing for souls — it's understood, 
A proper employment for womanhood 
When the bait is the beautiful and the good. 

But Geraldine uses poisoned bait : 

A moment's lust surcharged with hate 

Of wives and mothers left desolate. 

Ah, Geraldine, if you'd but given 
Your angler's skill to serve high heaven 
'Stead of this passion, devil driven. 

How many souls you might have caught 
And unto God Himself have brought. 
Even as every woman ought. 



41 



Well, let that be. Granted you've missed 
The aim for which such souls exist, 
I decline the robes of the moralist. 

Aesthetics are more worth the while, 
Though the content of your life is vile, 
There's never a flaw in your graceful style. 

And so, if you'll not take it ill 

Spite of my past offences, still 

I doff my hat to your technical skill. 

You're a trafficker in the soul's decay, 

A shameless hussy, yet I say 

You're a first class artist in your way. - 



42 



UNANSWERED 

I sent a letter to the one 
I love, a passionate, wild cry. 
Then fled out to the open sky, 
And saw the setting of the sun. 

That night I dreamed a dream divine, 
I took her in my arms, I kissed 
Her lips, nor did my love resist. 
For she was mine, forever mine. 



The winter skies are grey, and free 
And boisterous the wind that seems 
The bitterness of past dead dreams— 
My love hath never answered me. 



43 



SUNSET 

Flees the dark fury of intemperate Night 
The wounded Day, staggers adown the sky, 
Falls prone upon the threshold of the west 
And bleeds his life out in a purple anguish. 
Then Night, grown pitiful with triumph, stoops 
And wipes the blood away, and buries him 
A shrunken corpse 'neath the horizon hills. 



44 



LILY 

Lily, lily, white, white lily, floating on a lake of dreams. 

Lake of dreams ; 

Wind kissed lily, swaying, swaying. 

So it seems, so it seems. 

Cloistered virgin, praying, praying, 

To the God of hills and streams 

In his heaven high above the moon's cold beams: 

There deliberating, weighing 

In the scales — " So Justice deems 

Man's reward of good and ill " — 

He shall feel the praying, praying. 

He shall hear what thou art saying, 

I am but a lily swaying 
With thy streams ; 
Tempting tides about me playing, 
Yet obedient to thy will, 
Gladly, freely, ne'er delaying, — 
This I ask and know thou wilt fulfill : 
Deal with sinful man in mercy still! " 

Lily, lily, white, white lily, tho I love thee, have no feai — 

Have no fear. 

I should rather die than break thee ; 

Bending near, bending near, 

I shall never seek to wake thee 

From thy vision, calm and clear, 

From thy virgin rapture, beautiful, austere. 

I have no desire to take thee 

From thy cloistered heaven here. 

For if thou shouldst come with me. 

All the storms of life would shake thee, 

45 



All the devil's dark lures break thee, 

All thy soul's high hopes forsake thee, 

Cold and sere. 

Death itself could nowise make thee 

Once more beautiful and free. 

Never may such doom o'ertake thee ! 

Thus I leave thee, robed in purity — 

And my heart, my heart, I leave with thee, 



46 



A VOICE 

I dreamed of a voice — such a voice ! 
Like the fragrance of roses, 
Carelessly spilled 
And filled 
With the gladness the springtime exposes. 
(In my sleep I was thilled l) 
Such a voice ! 
Revealing the secrets the stars sing at night, 
Soft as pale blossoms of light, 

As the pallid, soft blossoms they fling each to each, 
Till the far earth they reach — 
(In my sleep I was shaken with fright ^ 
With a thought I was shaken: 
What if now I awaken l) 

Such a voice ! 
Vibrant with depths of unspoken surmise, 
And wonder that nestles in children's eyes. 
(In my sleep I was fain to rejoice 
Yet a dream surely dies !) 

Then you spoke ! 

And I — I awoke. 

Thrilled through and through, 

To know that my dream had come true ! 



47 



NIGHT SONG 

Weary and foot sore 

I wend my way, 

Bleak is the winter's breath 

At close of day. 

Night cometh upon me, 
The cold moon appears, 
Circled by chilly stars, 
Pale, frozen tears. 

See, from the distance 
Gleameth a ruddy light, 
A low, thatched cottage 
Slips into sight. 

'* Weary and footsore. 
Turn thee to rest; 
Be for this evening 
Our welcome guest." 

Stranger, no rest for me 
Tonight within thy home ; 
Driven by my spirit's need 
Onward I roam. 

Beyond the snowy hills 
My destination lies, 
There I shall see at length 
My lady's eyes. 

There I shall hear her voice 
So pure and sweet. 
There lay me down to rest 
Prone at her feet. 



48 



LIFE 

Man's life is but a dream and a desire, 

His bitter heritage is to aspire, 

His greatest glory that he never knows 

Contentment, that the thought of something higher, 

Above, beyond, allows him no repose. 



4.9 



TYRRELL 

Darkness around me, darkness in my soul 

Silent and deep, 

Aimlessly wandered I, with never a goal 

To lure my staggering footsteps, never a targe 

Toward which my spirit's shaft might leap — 

From marge to marge 

A starless night of doubt 

Wherein was neither hope nor hopeless sleep. 

Then did my soul cry out 

In impotent despair, 

** Must I then perish? No guidance anywhere? " 

Hark! 

Out of the dark 

Is heard 

A sudden word : 

Tyrrell ! — See now that one last spark 

Of faith which yet my breast 

Possessed 

With the swift magic of that name 

Flashing to flame. 

Tyrrell !— Rejoice ! 

See how his voice 

Hath beat the darkness back in shame ; 

See how his smile makes light 

Out of the east ! — Hush, miracle, — he came 

And the day dawned unto my throbbing sight ! 



50 



CARLYLE 

Mighty voiced prophet, sprung from Scotland's soil, 

Intrepid warrior in the cause of right ; 

Who sawest thy duty and with all thy might 

Didst follow it, through suffering and toil 

That bent thy form but could not daunt thy heart; 

Friend of the helpless children of the sod ; 

Unfailing champion of eternal God, 

In loneliness walking the way apart; 

Inveterate foe of sham, hypocrisy, 

And idleness and greed, and every ill 

That tortures man, tho the grave holds thee, still 

Thy voice speaks to us, passionate and free. 

And burns its message on life's endless scroll : 

Man has a body, but man is a soul. 



51 



MEA CULPA 

How often have I felt it so ! 

How often vainly longed to know 

The hidden sequence: here we sit 

Together not a doubt of it — 

I see her face; in her God-lit eyes, 

Deep sheltered beneath the constant brow, 

The joy of merciful wisdom lies. 

Sure of her bodily presence, now 

I hear her loved voice fall and rise 

And wait the soul — then swift this Thing 

Between us throws its shadowing, 

Therefor my soul that leapt to meet 

Her soul, and thus be made complete, 

Falls back (was ever such defeat?) 

Shuddering, and on the other side 

Hers likewise turns away to hide. 

So, there's problem ; here we sit 

Together — not a doubt of it — 

And yet as separated quite 

As the lowest depths from the loftiest height. 

Still may I look in her God-lit eyes. 

Still hear her loved voice fall and rise. 

But her soul that I love the best, alas. 

Over this Thing that 'twixt us lies 

Nevermore may learn to pass. 

How often in my blind despair. 

Unconscionable, 1 strove to tear 

My way to the bliss for which I yearn, 

Or with love's valiant flame to burn 

This thing from the path that leads me there. 



.52 



How often I bitterly strove — before ; 
But now I strive not any more. 

For sure if this Thing were of hell 
It never had withstood the spell 
Of her pure white soul that leapt toward me, 
But had trembled away and left us free : 
By her pure white soul I know all's well. 
Together — yet separated quite 
As the lowest depth from the loftiest height — 
How a commonplace simile kindles light ! 
She on the height of God's grace, I deep 
In the dusk of sin, where hell's cohorts creep- 
Courage my soul, tho the path be steep ! 

God, my Father, incline Thine ear, 
Pity my weakness, hear, oh, hear! 
Grant me the strength of will to guard 
My soul's dear secret; this is hard 
To take her hand in mine and still 
Never to let her sense the thrill 
The touch of that hand awakes in me, 
To look into her trustful eyes, 
Never, never, to let her see 
A longing glance of passion arise 
To speak to her and not to say, 
" 1 love you — " 

Natheless I obey 
What seems Thine evident decree 
That she and I should parted be 
While the long days marching one by one 
With faces turned to the setting sun, 
Wearily, wearily, shuffle past, 

53 



Till the day of days become at last 
When the shadow of sin no longer lies 
Between our souls, but shrivels and dies 
Before the face of heaven's sunrise. 
Meanwhile teach me to work and pray 
And cleanse my heart for the coming day. 



54 



THE QUEST 

All the long night we wandered on our quest 
Through forests of tall spruce and spreading fir, 
And into dim ravines where boulders were 
And querulous rivers, onward still we pressed; 
All the long night my arm supported her 
Trembling with hope, nor knew we any rest. 
Till with the dawn, where the low skies unsealed, 
The great sun shot his earliest ray above, 
And on the path before us stood revealed. 
Flashing with light, the citadels of love. 



55 



A DREAM 

I dreamed last nijiht I saw my love once more 

Sitting beside me ; all was as before 

The madness overwhelmed me : it did seem 

My most cruel crime had been an evil dream, 

And now I was awakened. All my pain 

Fled from her joyous presence, once again 

I felt the surge of ecstasies untold, 

Her God-lit eyes smiled on me as of old. 

Ah, I was happy — " Child heart, speak," I said, 

** Was it a dream? " Gently she shook her head. 

Then breathed the words that raised my soul to heaven 

" No, not a dream, dear friend, only — forgiven I " 



56 



THE MYSTIC 

He is not virtuous — in his soul 
No room for virtue as for vice: 
God Himself occupies the whole- 
This is the perfect sacrifice. 



57 



PELLEAS ET MELISANDE 

Doubt not there are more things in heaven and hell 
And the wide earth between, than thou and I 
Have dreamt us of, depths that no human cry 
Hath fathomed with its shrillness, to dispel 
The silence of long aeons — who can tell 
The mystic meaning of the unbounded sky? 
Ah, poet, thou hast asked the what and why — 
Behold the answer that thy musings spell : 

Darkness, the dumb, mysterious moon, the kind 
And patient star throngs, sick with fear, that wait 
Above the whispered warning of the wind ; 
Fathomless forces of the soul that bind 
Impotent phantom things to love and hate : 
The splendid triumph of life's master : Fate ! 



58 



THOUGHTS 

Whence come those sudden thoughts that leech-hke suck 

The chilled blood from our cheeks in a swift instant, 

And burn our joy to ashes? With feline tread 

They steal upon the fortress of the mind 

And ere we wake the citadels is theirs 

And all our hopes in chains — even as I sat 

This evening gazing in still happiness 

On Childheart's picture there, and thinking how 

Those God-lit eyes and the sweet soul of them 

Had changed me through and through, and made my life, 

That once was as the memory of past sin 

Barren and dark, a thing of eager joy 

Touched with a ray of heaven — even then it flashed: 

** What if you never had met her? Never saw 

Her God-lit eyes and the sweet soul of them? 

Where then had been the wonder and the joy? 

Is not this thing you call a miracle 

In fact a child of chance? " 

And so this thought 
Beat down upon me till I quailed with anguish, 
Fearing some blind, unwilling stroke of chance 
That should destroy what chance itself had made, 
Even all my perfect joy and valiant dreams 
Of future bliss — but then I raised my face 
To the calm crucifix upon the wall 
And all my fears had vanished, for I felt 
The mystery of love omnipotent 
And Whose the hand had surely guided me 
To Childheart's eyes and the sweet soul of them. 



59 



SANTA DONCELLITA 

There is no shadow on her face 
Who hath kind thoughts to cheer her; 
No ill thing may come near her 
To mar her holy dwelling place. 

Each morning with the same surprise 
She wakes to bless the living, 
And unalloyed thanksgiving 
Is in the wonder of her eyes. 

All day her spirit sweet doth shed 
On earth a golden splendor, 
So pure she is and tender 
God breathed a halo on her head. 

And when at night she goes to sleep, 
Above her gentle slumber 
Dim angels without number 
Their jubilant white vigil keep. 



60 



SONG 

She sings 

And o'er my soul she flings 

Her subtle spell. 

'Tis well : 

I hear the rustle of an angel's wings. 

Each note 

That from her gleaming throat 

Glides into space 

Has grace 

To heal where powers of evil fiercely smote. 

Above 

The vagrant planets move 

Across the sky, 

But I 

Motionless listen to the voice I love. 

Dear heart, 

I know that we must part 

Tho in my dream 

I seem 

To linger here forever where thou art. 

Alas! 

All earth-born dreams must pass. 

Yet sing on still 

Until 

Love's quenchless thirst find but an empty glass. 



61 



FRIENDSHIP 

Edgar, the king, of Gurth, the sage, inquired, 

Tell me I pray what is it makes thy life 
So beautiful? By what art thou inspired? 
That I like thee may free my soul from strife, 
And so, at peace with all, await mine end." 
Answered him Gurth, the sage, " I had a friend. 



SHADOW AND SUBSTANCE 

I dreamed of love in boyhood days, I thought 

To have looked upon the very face of love, 

The very face and form of perfect love ; 

So dreamed I — knowing not 1 dreamed — the shadow 

Of love I saw, a living phantom saw. 

As knowledge-laden Faust within the mirror 

Saw sudden beauty flame and asked no more, 

But sly Mephisto smiled — and even as Faust, 

Followed I the vain shadow through sad years 

Of passionate yearning, followed in despair 

To the abyss of death — then I awoke 

And knew that dream a shadow. 

Love, oh. Love, 
I cursed thee then for an ungrateful tyrant, — 
Dear love, forgive me that I cursed thee then. 
How could I, blind and boyish dreamer, guess 
The depth of thy design ! Beautiful Love, 
Whose shadow even is beautiful, I know thee, 
1 know thee now — thyself — no shadow more, 
But thine eternal self — 

Mine eyes are dazzled ! 



63 



REVELATION 

Out of the fiery bush 
God unto Moses spake : 
"Thou to this people go, 
Bid them awake, 
Flee the Egyptian foe." 

On Sinai's towering height 

Spake He to him once more 

With awful thundering : 

* * Bid them adore 

Jahveh, their Lord and King." 

Thus twice to Moses spake 
The Lord God bending near — 
Why should I envious be? 
In your eyes, dear, 
Daily he speaks to me ! 



64 



BEAUTY 

Fair is my love to look upon, 

Dear is her beauty to me : 

But, oh, more dear than her bodily charms 

Is the beauty I cannot see ! 



65 



DAWN 

Dawn with a million rainbows 
Flowers the eastern shrine, 
Spills from her burnished goblet 
Day, the libation wine. 

Earth in a speechless wonder 
Gladdens the sacred feast, 
Nature's matutinal sacrifice, 
Reverent Eucharist. 

Listen, the birds are astir now, 
Earth finds her voice at last: 
Each to his dear mate singing, 
" Wake, for the night is past ! " 

And in my heart is singing, 

(Ah, if you only knew !) 

The fairest bird with the sweetest song. 

That is my love for you ! 



66 



PURSUIT 

Ever above me — thou ! 

Upward, still upward I struggle. Now 

Surely my hands have caught thy hands at last, 

Thy lips, thy brow ! 

Nay, just thy garment's hem 

Swayed unto them. 

The fleeting rapture past, 

Begins the chase anew. 

Upward, still upward, day and night through, 

Breathless, I pursue. 

That shining peak ahead — 

Thither she's fled ! 

That sunset glorified 

(Day hanging dead 

On the cross of the west, crucified 

For the sins of the world) 

There doth she hide. 

Nay, not here, the glory hangs furled : 

She's gone — follow after, 

Sliding the sunset bar, 

Hearken her laughter 

From afar 

Upward, still upward hurled — 

Trembleth a star! 

Ever above me — thou ! 

To hold thee here — but how.? 

Still I pursue — in vain. 

Never my weary, bleeding feet shall gain 

The ultimate goal. 

Never my soul 



67 



Touch thine and be at peace. 

Never thy arms' embrace 

From the mad chase 

Proffer release. 

Still I pursue thee ; still 

Thou hast thy will : 

Ever above me ! 

Fool! Madman I Nay, my bliss 

Defeat shall shake not, 

Death itself break not — 

This: 

Beloved, I love thee! 

Ever above me — thou ! 
Upward, still upward I struggle. 



68 



ROSES 

I brought my love some roses red ; 
She took them in her hand — 
As here I stand 
Not even thank you " said. 

All speechless stood she — so I guessed 

She loved me, having heard 

Never a word — 

*' Well? '* — Friends, silence is best ! 



69 



REMEMBER THIS 

Remember this when I am gone from you, 
That the I was not beautiful nor good 
Nor any way deserving that you should 
Stoop low to love me, this one thing was true 
I looked into your eyes and understood ! 



70 



EVENING PRAYER 

Thy blessing, Lord, grant me, I pray, 
This night. Can I so soon forget 
My scarlet sins? Ah, no — and yet 
Her eyes have purged my heart today. 

Thy blessing. Lord — my life is grey 
And shaken with a heavy debt 
Of unpaid penalties — and yet 
Her smile hath shriven me today. 

Thy blessing. Lord — the narrow way 
Proved all too narrow, when I met 
The tempter, his the triumph — yet 
Her soul hath prayed for me today. 



71 



EVOLUTION 

1 would not have my love for thee a thing 
As earlier poets sing, 
Unchanging evermore, 
A stolid flame through all eternity. 

Today the love 1 bring 
Is nobler than the love I gave before, 
Tomorrov*^ nobler still shall be. 

For every morn 
I wake to find my love reborn 

Into a sweeter ecstasy. 
Of obvious imperfections shorn, 
Stronger and purer ; and at eve again 
The vision that hath lured and led me through the day 

Begins to wane. 
Yet am I comforted alway. 

Feeling within my soul the burning travail pain, 
Feeling presentiments upon me steal 
Of the new glory that the morrow's light 

Shall imminently reveal. 
So peacefully through the hushed night 
I dream of a new vision of love 
All earlier visions far above, 
And later find the thing I dreamed before my waking sight. 
So even as I grow 
In knowledge and in grace 
Groweth my love for thee apace. 
(This thing I know) 
For what is knowledge but an open space 
Carved as a window through life's mystery 
Wherein gleameth thy face, 
Whose serene glow 



72 



Is as a beacon ligrht to me below. 

And what is grace but to grow nearer thee, 

Nearer that still embrace 
Of soul with soul reserved for thee and me 

In God's most holy place. 

For when life's bitter race 

Is run, and we at last are free. 

Then death's release 

Shall bid the process cease 
And love made perfect welcome us to everlasting peace. 



7S 



A WARNING 

I saw our unborn children in thine eyes, 

Oh, my beloved, I heard their pleading cries 

Unto me lifted, '* Father that shalt be, 

Preserve thy youthful days in purity, 

And all thy thoughts unsullied, ever free 

Of lust's insidious dreams, for our dear sake, 

Who on ourselves unwillingly must take 

The burden of thy failure to be strong 

And steadfast in the battle against wrong. 

Black poison for our baby spirits — so live 

That when in the flesh we verily shall be thine. 

Thou needst not bow thy head, murmuring, "Forgive, 

Oh, children, whom I tremble to know mine. 

Forgive that for my pleasure born of vice 

Ye stand the unwitting, terrible sacrifice. 

Bearing upon your innocent cheeks the brand 

Of scorching sin's inexorable hand, 

And in your souls, stunted ere birth, the seeds 

Of dissolute thoughts and dark, unholy deeds.*' 



74 



SONG 

Before the void took form and grew 

A universe begun, 
We were together, I and you, 
We were together, no one knew — 

Yet you and I were one. 

Before the speechless sky unfurled 

Her flaming starry scroll. 
Before the sun in triumph hurled 
His earliest welcome to the world, 

1 looked upon your soul. 

Before the word : let there be light, 

Hurled chaos from its throne, 
Before the first day, virgin white. 
Mounted the steps to heaven's height, 
God made you all my own. 



75 



UNDAUNTED 

Tho my sins were as scarlet, beloved, 

And my punishment sure, 
I should tremble not, neither despair : 

I know you are pure. 

Should the Judgment Day find me unready. 

Blindly shaken with lust. 
Should a righteous God bar my soul 

From the sight of the Just ; 

Even in Hell's fierce torments eternal 

Undaunted I'd be. 
For the thought that you were in heaven 

Would be heaven to me. 



EMMANUEL 

A secret rapture lies 

Under the shadow of your eyes 

Akin to music's spell 

Or the still wonder born of lingering sunset skies. 

Looking upon your face, 

Sudden a deep muttered grace 

Assures me all is well 

And life is ever good, and earth a holy place. 

Sometimes I think you are 

A being from some kindlier star 

By heavenly love designed 

Avatar of the truth no evil thing may mar. 

Or that God, watching through 

The tenuous veil of halcyon blue 

Our struggling souls and blind, 

Uttered a word of hope, and lo, that word was you! 



77 



SONG 

Good by . 

For a day and a night. 

We shall meet in the quivering dawn at last 

When a day and a night have passed. 

Good by ! 

Good by ! 

For a day and a night. 

For the day of life and the night of death — 

Will a new dawn follow the night of death.'' 

Good by ! 



78 



CLOUDS 

That was a dream so fanciful, 
We were two clouds, you and I, 
Drifting apart and unhappy. 
Through the infinite sky. 

Till by fate's merciful breezes 
Wafted together at last, 
We met, and loved, and mingled, 
Forgetting the past. 

And in the rapture of union, 
Rapture akin to pain. 
Crystalline tears fell from us 
To the earth in rain. 

And the men and women below there 
Whispered in awed delight, 
** How beautiful, pure, and consoling, 
Is the rain tonight." 



79 



AFTER HEINE 

A pine tree towers lonely 

In the north on a barren height, 

He slumbers, the ice and the snow flakes 

Wrap round him a mantle of white. 

He dreams of a distant palm tree — 
She, silent and lonely, must stand 
And mourn on the burning cliff side, 
Far away in an eastern land. 



80 



A WOMAN'S SOUL 

I have looked into a woman's soul! 

I have lain me down in the cool recesses of her being, 
I have bathed in the limpid stream of her purity, — 
And I have come forth refreshed and gladdened. 

Nothing in the world is as refreshing as the soul of a friend ; 
Nothing in the world is as beautiful as the soul of a pure 

woman. 
Now I am no longer afraid of anything — neither of life nor 

of death, 
For neither life nor death can take from me this one 

glorious fact : 

I have looked into a woman's soul! 



81 



THY VOICE 

Dear, let me be thy voice — speak thou through me 
Thy radiant message I Lo, my lips were dumb, 
My soul could find no speech, ere thou wert come 
To whisper of the Vision thou didst see 
Whereto mine eyes were sealed, the Purity 
That swayed thy soul, whereto my soul was numb. 
Till these thy shining hope had freed me from : 
Blind passion and its guerdon misery. 

Speak thou through me — accept the gift of song 

Thy perfect love hath wakened, yea, thy heart 

Is nearer God, thy steadfast eyes are strong 

To face the sun, thou knowest right from wrong, 

And truth from falsehood ; teach men through my art 

The wisdom thou hast long cherished apart. 



82 



INDEX 

A WOMAN 3 

HIS MOTHER 7 

TANTALUS 14 

MARY MAGDALENE 17 

RODOLFO 20 

AMIEL 25 

** JUNIOR" 27 

LASSALLE'S DEATH 29 

TO A SCEPTIC 32 

LOVE AND DEATH 83 

THE BROOK 34 

ARCADY 36 

THREE LOVE SONGS 37 

GERALDINE 39 

UNANSWERED 43 

SUNSET 44 

LILY 45 

A VOICE 47 

NIGHT SONG 48 

LIFE 49 

TYRRELL 50 

CARLYLE 51 

MEA CULPA 52 

THE QUEST 55 

A DREAM 56 

THE MYSTIC 57 

PELLEAS ET MELISANDE 58 

THOUGHTS 59 

SANTA DONCELLITA 60 

SONG 61 

FRIENDSHIP 62 



85 



SHADOW AND SUBSTANCE 63 

REVELATION 64 

BEAUTY 65 

DAWN 66 

PURSUIT 67 

ROSES 69 

REMEMBER THIS 70 

EVENING PRAYER 71 

EVOLUTION 72 

A WARNING 74 

SONG 75 

UNDAUNTED 76 

EMMANUEL 77 

SONG 78 

CLOUDS 79 

AFTER HEINE 80 

A WOMAN'S SOUL 81 

THY VOICE 82 



86 



DEC 28 m\ 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 



DEC 29 19n 



